


A Copy of a Copy of a

by Schediaphilia



Category: Rick and Morty, The Venture Bros
Genre: Age Difference, Arguing, Emotional Manipulation, Ficlet, Gaslighting, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Rick being a dick, Rusty being a dick, Sexual Content, There's probably going to be porn tbh, WIP, Work In Progress, full disclosure this will probably never be finished, not yet, sexual favors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schediaphilia/pseuds/Schediaphilia
Summary: Rusty finally gets to spend some time alone and finds someone in his lab he, quite frankly, never wanted to see again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being way more sexual than I intended, whoops. This is intended as a one-shot currently, but I've been captivated by a plot bunny for quite awhile now and I will likely expand on this. This may be deleted or edited to become part of a universe or series. 
> 
> This is unedited and a first draft.

Why was it whenever he got the boys out of the compound, something happened? Couldn't he just get one day without someone trying to kill him? Honestly, who has this much time on his hands to spend on harassing super scientists.

Dr.Venture opened the door to his lab slowly, peering inside, communicator watch by his mouth and already tuned to Brock's frequency.

Dr.Venture's eyes narrowed, a sigh of relief leaving him. Only to be replaced with intense frustration.

"Ahem," Rusty walked into his lab, glaring at the man who was rustling in his father's blueprints.

"If you want anything, it'll be 500 dollars."

The man froze and turned slowly, a small smile on his face despite his unreadable eyes.

"Ayyyy, Rustyyyy it's been forever!"

"If by forever you mean 20 years and 65 days, yes, I suppose it has been forever."

The man froze.

"Holy shit dude, i-it's not healthy to keep grudges like that, y-y'know?"

He was rubbing the back of his head, eyes swinging left and right. Looking for something. Dr. Venture instinctually tensed. He was unpredictable, he would fight him if he thought he was threatened.

"People don't call me Rusty anymore, Rick," he spoke slowly and crossed his arms to hide that he was beginning to shake.

"O-oh right, right, you still go by T.S.?"

"Never stuck. No wonder when everyone just calls me Rusty anyway," responded quietly, unsure why he was humoring him.

"So ugh, I don't have the money right now but I planned for this."

Rusty couldn't hide his annoyance when Rick pulled out a baggie of what was almost definitely weed.

"Rick, seriously? I haven't smoked that stuff since college, you know that."

Rick snorted, "Wh-what you think just cause I'm old I don't remember all the times we got high?"

"Yes, actually. I assumed your memory had to be failing you," Rusty adjusted his glasses, trying to keep his voice form shaking, "Because if you remember that god damn well you would know you're not allowed here."

"Rustyyy, come on, for old time's sake-"

Rusty gritted his teeth, his hands falling to fists at his side, "Old time's sake? Seriously, you think I'm that stupid?!"

Rick frowned, eyes narrowing, lips pursed.

"You think you can waltz in here and rob me blind after what you did?" Rusty spoke lowly, chest shaking, hands shaking, wrist to his mouth-

And then he was against the door, head smashing into the reinforced metal, reeling from the movement.

"I'm giving you two choices: Y-you play nice, or I knock you out and take what I want."

Rusty laughed despite those rugged, familiar hands wrapped around his neck.

"A choice? Why bother, we both know you'll take what you want, no matter what I say."

Rick's lips pursed once more, his teeth bared like he was leering over his prey, ready to bite into him and tear him open.

"Fine, what do you want then? If you're so-so fucking insistent that I-"

The moment Rick had asked what he want, his mind went to the answer he had chosen 20 years and 65 days ago, the answer that made Rick leave, the answer that Rusty had been thinking of since. Impulsive, quick, breathless, his hand bore quickly into Rick's hair- bastard still fucking had it and he was what 80?- and forced his head down. The space between the disappeared, their lips meeting as Rusty gasped at Rick's tightening hand.

And then Rick laughed, laughed and pushed him harder against the wall, pushed his entire body onto him and Rusty didn't have time to regret his selfish and stupid decision, didn't have time to regret he was acting like a 23 year old despite being 43, didn't have time to regret that he was repeating his regrets.

"If I knew this was the price I wouldn't have been so rough," Rick whispered, his voice low, gravelly, almost assuredly drunk.

Rusty sputtered as Rick increased his grip again, Rick rocking his hips up, his lips parting and breathing hot sighs into his ear.

Rick snickered suddenly, "You liked being choked out? If I'd known you were a freak-"

"Shut up, Rusty managed to rasp out. Rick loosened his grip.

"Shut the fuck up," Rusty breathed hard, gasping, "I don't want to hear that-that bullshit! That you wouldn't have left if I had-" he glared up at him, "had been a slut for you or something! I could've sucked your cock and thanked you for the god damn opportunity and you still would-"

Rick pulled him up with both hands, hands gripping the fabric of his speedsuit, his head nuzzling against Rusty's neck. Rusty gasped out as Rick ran his tongue over the side of his neck, resisting the urge to shake from unspent adrenaline, and failed to resist the shiver that ran down his spine.

"You're right," Rick spoke softly, voice on edge, slowly enunciating. "I was doing you a f-fucking favor leaving. Thought you were smart enough to realize that."

Rusty's heart sunk despite his skin tingling, his face hot.

"What do you mean?"

"W-what I m-mean, Rusty, is that y-you would be all over me, worship the ground I walk on, h-hell you probably would've- what did you say?" Rick paused to think, a shit-eating grin on his face, "sucked my cock and thanked me for the opportunity?"

Rick ran a long, hot lick up Rusty's throat, "What, that one of y-your little fantasies?"

Rusty closed his eyes, attempted in vain to regulate his breathing.

"I could've taken advantage of you, I c-could've pumped and dumped you. That what you wanted?"

Rusty gritted his teeth, his voice bellowing far too loudly, "That is precisely what you did!"

Rick huffed, "I sucked your dick, I didn't fuck you, don't be so f-fucking dramatic. See, this is what I mean! You got all l-lovey," Rick hiccupped lightly, "fucking dovey over a blow job! Imagine if I had actually put my dick in you! You probably would've- I don't know, killed yourself or something."

Rusty's mouth gaped, indignant, having trouble processing Rick's words.

"Oh, yeah," he answered, voice low in an attempt to not moan when Rick sucked on his neck, "I would've killed myself because Rick Sanchez broke up with me. Def-" Rick shifted him, jumping Rusty, who yelped.

"Wanna fuck here or-" Rick's eyes darted around as he pulled away.

Rusty closed his eyes in an attempt to process just how much of an ass Rick was. Seriously, he's trying to fucking him in between arguing with him and Rusty was only a little disappoint in himself he was participating.

"My-Myra still-"

"No!"

Rick's brow rose, eyes asking questions Rusty didn't feel like answering.

"Don't ask. No, she doesn't, and if I'm lucky I'll never see her again. I have a new bodyguard."

"He around?"

Rusty closed his eyes and suddenly had the urge to throw up.

"No, he's... out."

"Isn't he supposed to be guarding you? I mean th-that's kind of-"

Rusty sighed, "He's out with my sons. Not that you care."

Rusty shifted in his grip and extended his legs, happy when Rick got the hint and put him on the ground, "I'm sure you don't need directions to the bedroom. After all, you have stunning memory for a geriatric."

As he began walking out of the door, he expected Rick to punch him. Maybe slam him into the wall again, maybe even choke him again, anything. But no blows came, nothing happened except the sounds of Rick's footsteps behind him. For some reason, that pissed him off even more. He wasn't a threat to him. He wasn't even notable enough to be a nuisance.

"They're Myra's?" Rick asked, almost conversationally as they neared the door to Rusty's bedroom.

"That's not the court records say."

Rick was smiling, a weird look on his face. Rusty didn't know how to feel about it.

"Damn, that's cold. she didn't get the abortion then."

Rusty laughed, "Yeah, 'cause you can convince crazy to get an abortion."

"Tell me about it."

"You have kids?"

Rick chuckled a bit, "Just one."

"That you know of?" Rusty asked slyly, quite aware of Rick's nature back in the day.

"That's not what the court records say," Rick parroted as Rusty opened the door.

Rusty felt a bit like he was in a dream. Or maybe he was high and didn't realize it. Moments ago they'd been at each other throats, literally and figuratively, but somehow they slipped so easily, so casually into their old routine. On some level it disgusted him. Nothing had changed. After 20 years, nothing had changed. Rusty wasn't sure if he should be envious of Rick or pity him. He'd change physically, but his voice, his words all, and perhaps even the way he pushed Rusty onto the bed and crawled on top of him all showed he was the same person he was 20 years ago. The same fucked up, narcissistic, alcoholic who's hair Rusty had drunkenly slid his fingers through, the same mouth that had made his eyes roll back and that same voice that had whispered dirty, disgusting things in his ear.

Maybe he was trying to relive his 20's, relive the part of his life before he was tied down, a part Rick seemed to personify. Or maybe he was trying to take what he thought he deserved and never got. After all, he'd given Rick notebook after notebook, blueprint after blueprint, machine after machine, even after Rick stopped paying. Even after the most he could expect was a "You're a good kid." At some point, the money wasn't enough, the drugs weren't enough, so he invited him to stay over and get high. It became a routine. He wanted to spend time with him, he wanted him to tell him he was a good kid, he wanted him to look at one of his inventions and be impressed. But when he looked at his inventions he frowned, he rattled off things Rusty couldn't fully understand and when he asked questions, he gave him this terrible look. Rusty wasn't entirely sure what it meant until he had showed him a prototype of a nuclear powered vacuum cleaner and Rick looked it over, frowning, grumbling and finally uttered, "Are you r-really this fucking stupid?"

Rusty was brought back to the present by Rick's hands on his sides, his long fingers pressing into him as he dragged them down and Rusty couldn't tell if, like most things, had been planned by Rick. If he had planned for this contingency, if he too wanted Rusty beyond just him being a willing hole. Rusty had half a mind to tell him he wanted to top, but it was half-hearted at best. He had wanted this, Rick's dominating presence towering over him, his rough hands holding him down, his--

Rick undid the speedsuits belt and slid down the zipper, and Rusty felt suddenly everything was going way too fast, suddenly remembering he wasn't 23 anymore and his body showed it. Rusty gasped, eyes widening, Rick paused.

"Shhh, you okay?"

Rusty stared in disbelief as Rick ran a hand slowly, strangely comfortingly up and down his upper arm. Rick was looking at him, but he wasn't glaring at him anymore, neither in anger or desire. It was more curious that anything, a quiet curiosity. He seemed to be running through different options in his head.

"Be a good boy for me," Rick said slowly, enunciating 'good boy' so slowly Rusty knew on some level he was doing this on purpose. And he didn't want him to stop. Yeah, he realized as he wrapped his legs around Rick's back- he really is that fucking stupid.

 


	2. Why All the Change of Heart?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t going to happen again, this wasn’t going to happen like this. Rick wasn’t the 40 year old embittered inventor anymore, and Rusty wasn’t the 23 year old embittered super scientist anymore. Things weren’t meant to repeat like this, weren’t meant to be so painfully cyclical and Rick knew that, Rusty knew that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I said this was a one-shot. I am a filthy god damn liar. 
> 
> Once again, unedited first draft.

It had been 21 years years ago. T.S., 22 years old and just given the worst news he’d yet received in his short life, arrived home to an empty compound and vague platitudes from the men who’d work with his father. T.S. was in a difficult place emotionally. Somewhere between bitter, relieved, and terrified. He spent the first week lying around feeling sorry for himself, processing the cruelty and randomness of the universe but mostly how much he hated his father for dumping all of this shit into his lap. 

 

It was the second week that he had been going through his father’s lab and heard a cough. 

 

“Who’s there?” T.S. had nearly yelped, eyes wide, scanning the lab and landing onto a middle-aged man with his arms raised in the air. He was wearing a labcoat- a scientist?- and looked aged in a way that was far more mental than it was spiritual. 

 

"Ayyyy, Rustyyyy it's been forever!"

 

“Uhm, I’m sorry, do I know you? Why are you in dad’s lab-” 

 

“C-course you do, buddy. I was one of your old man’s pals!” The man, who he most definitely didn’t recognize, punched his shoulder in a way that would’ve be familial if not for the fact it send T.S. to the ground. 

 

“W-whoa, you okay?” He reached a rough hand, long fingers intertwined with his as he pulled him up. He had looked down at him with his brown eyes, and as he helped T.S. to his feet, T.S. wasn’t sure if he was breathless from the fall or the man’s overwhelming presence. 

  
  


Rick was just as overwhelming as he had been then, and perhaps that was why Rusty arched his back and moaned into his mouth, and why he let his tongue run along his own, why his eyes slid shut and his hands gripped the rough fabric of his dirty labcoat. That was the most insidious part of Rick, he was commandeering, dominant, overwhelming and he knew it. 

 

There was nothing about Rick that was particularly attractive, at least not in the physical sense. No, Rick’s allure lied in the way he ran his hands along Rusty as if he owned him, how Rick’s soft words belied that he was doing what he does best: What he wants, taking what he wants. 

 

“Mmm, it’s been awhile since I’ve heard that pretty voice of yours,” Rick spoke against his lips, pushing the boundaries Rusty had set in place. 

 

“Awhile is certainly… a way to put it,” Rusty mumbled, embarrassed, no sure what he was supposed to do or what he wanted to do. 

 

Rick licked his lips, those brown eyes half-lidded, dazed.

 

“You wanted to do this back then,” Rusty whispered, the realization sending a shiver down his spine. With anyone else he would’ve felt a surge of self-assurance, of being wanted, but with Rick it felt as empty as it was exciting. 

 

They were so close, hot breaths intermingling with one another, wet lips grazing as Rick looked at him in a way Rusty was beginning to suspect or hope was lust. 

 

“If I had known...” he didn’t know what he would’ve done. More than a drunken, wet kiss, more than a blow job he barely remembered.  

 

“Yeah?” Rick mumbled, breathing hard, “Y-you were cute…” 

 

Rusty could remember that, could remember Rick praising him with his mouth full of cum, smelling of a mix of bourbon and vodka, saying how pretty he was when he moaned. How cute he was when he came. How he wanted to tie him up, make him cum over and over until he couldn’t make anymore noises, until his pretty lips were slack and his body shook. 

 

Rick was grinning down at him, “I w-would’ve fucking wrecked you,” Rick whispered, his hands running down Rusty’s arched back. 

 

Maybe he wanted to be wrecked, “Please.” 

 

Rusty gasped and twisted his body when Rick’s hand slid under his unzipped speedsuit, wrapping around his painfully hard dick in one smooth motion. He struggled to breathe, overwhelmed by the feeling, eyelids fluttering. 

 

“Of course I w-wanted to fuck you… christ… You were so naive,” Rick twisted his hand and Rusty moaned, legs tightening on Rick’s waist, “Fuuuck yeah, moan for me baby.”

 

Rusty’s eyes twisted closed, lust coiling impossibly tight, “R-Rick-” he couldn’t breathe, he turned his head, whimpered, hands coiled in the comforter, eyes rolling up, glasses askew.

 

“That’s it…” Rick spoke, voice heavy, breath hard.

 

Rusty couldn’t stop the way his hips jerked forwards to meet Rick’s hand, the way his muscles tightened, the way his voice was tumbling out in hushed whines. Rusty blinked, jerking his hips into air, brain unable to process where his hand had gone, barely able to process what was happening when Rick smirked up at him as he pushed and pulled at his speedsuit and slid down to his crotch, licking his teeth, his lips and looking directly at Rusty’s face. 

 

Rusty bit his lip, stomach twisting, a part of him dying for him to take him into his mouth, a part of him terrified that he was repeating the past. When Rick’s hot tongue ran along his dick, Rusty realized he didn’t give a shit if he was repeating the past, didn’t give a shit if Rick pumped and dumped him as long as he kept doing that. 

 

And in retrospect, maybe it was weird that a man twice his age got drunk with him every other week, maybe it was weird a man twice his age leaned against him and looked at him with an undecipherable glare, and maybe Rusty was the only one who didn’t he had an enormous crush on Rick. In retrospect, maybe it was fucked up to get your dead friend’s son drunk and crawl on top of him and run sloppy kisses down his collarbones, down his chest, down his- 

 

“Shit! Rick if-if you keep doing tha- ah!” 

 

And suddenly he was way too close, way too fast, and as his hands ran through his hair, fingertips curling as he arched off the bed, Rick pulled away to grin before opening his mouth and shoving the other man’s entire length down his throat in one smooth action. Rusty shivered, breathless with a drawn out moan. With a quiet whimper, he came, eyes half open, wave after wave of pleasure being drawn from his shaking body. When Rick pulled back, Rusty was still catching his breath, still feeling the way the edges of the world frayed after a long orgasm. 

 

“So uh-” 

 

Rusty’s eyes were closed, he felt a bit dizzy, like he’d been knocked off his feet.

 

“I’ll just take t-th-the blueprint and go, that okay?” Rick said casually, as if he hadn’t just swallowed his cum. No. No, it was not okay.

 

This wasn’t going to happen again, this wasn’t going to happen like this. Rick wasn’t the 40 year old embittered inventor anymore, and Rusty wasn’t the 23 year old embittered super scientist anymore. Things weren’t meant to repeat like this, weren’t meant to be so painfully cyclical and Rick knew that, Rusty knew that. 

 

It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t going to be okay. 

 

But perhaps it was because Rusty had dealt with this before, perhaps it was because Rusty had changed, much unlike Rick’s seeming stasis. Rusty found himself in a mixture of confusing emotions but somehow found himself unable to care.

 

“Sure, but only the one you had in your hand,” Rusty wasn’t stupid, he’d seen him stuff one into his lab coat when he thought he wasn’t looking, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to expect to ever see it again even with that order.

 

Rick didn’t move, which confused Rusty, who wanted to tidy up before Brock and the boys came home. For once he wasn’t in the mood to brag about his sexual venture. 

 

“Ugggh… Y-yeah, okay. I’ll,” Rick was speaking slowly, he hadn’t planned for this contingency. Rusty could tell since he was eyeing him like he’d suddenly grown a second head. Come to think of it, it wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, but Rusty had a feeling the look Rick was giving him wasn’t due to any sudden mutation on either of their persons, “I’ll see you.” 

 

Rusty stood when Rick got off of him and turned away from him to zip himself back up, fussing with the belt. He could’ve sworn that was tighter last week… Was Brock slipping protein powder into his pancakes again? 

 

“Sure you will, Rick,” Rusty answered lowly.

 

With the sound of atoms and space time being frayed, Rick disappeared. Rusty didn’t have time or the inclination to mourn what he knew was his last encounter with Rick Sanchez for, if Rick had it his way, the rest of his life. 


End file.
